Pandemonium
by Autumn Bells
Summary: The town of Sleepy Hollow is visited by Sam and Dean due to its recent happenings. Abbie is hostile and Ichabod isn't so sure. / There is mild whump!Ichabod in the near future. No slash. Enjoy!


**Chapter 1**

**The Meeting**

Ichabod noticed something. Perhaps it was the strange, knowing twinkle in the man's eye or perhaps it was the way he stood so close to Miss Mills. Either way, the 200-year-old man knew that this so-called 'FBI agent' was trying to seduce his partner. And truth be told, Ichabod didn't like it one bit and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking between the short man and the one that was similar to his own height. These 'agents' arrived only an hour ago to question the recent happenings of Sleepy Hollow. Ichabod stayed in the shadows without saying a word; although Miss Mills did direct him to do so, he would've anyways.

The stench of blood reeked from the two men and Ichabod glared at them with shimmering blue eyes.

"I assure you that the killer will be apprehended," Captain Irving said, staring at the FBI agents with big, determined eyes. "I've got my best officer on the job." The captain gestured to Abigail, who stood next to the shorter of the two agents.

The taller agent smiled politely, "No, sir, we aren't trying to control the situations. We just want to do some digging ourselves. Maybe talking with Officer Mills or speaking with any witnesses. We'd just like to offer our services to be of some help."

Abigail crossed her arms and sighed, "That's _Lieutenant_ Mills. And there are no witnesses. Unless you count the decapitated heads."

Ichabod snickered a bit at Miss Mills' sardonic jokes. Part of him was thankful she didn't mention his name. He would have an awfully difficult time coming up with a false explanation to suit Miss Mills' needs to stray from the truth. Ichabod never understood why no one would believe him unless they had 'tangible evidence', as Abigail had previously mentioned. Did he look like someone who spoke lies?

"What about him?" the shorter of the agents gestured to Ichabod and he tightened the grip on his hands behind his back.

Miss Mills spoke immediately, "No, he's nobody. Just someone we picked up near a crime scene."

Ichabod noticed how her face contorted in regret of having said that.

"So, he may be a potential witness?" the taller man asked softly and looked at Ichabod in the eyes from across the conference room in the police station. "And why is he wearing those clothes?"

Ichabod felt his eye twitch in annoyance. Why did everyone he came into contact with question his garments? Did they not suit him?

Miss Mills replied somewhat frantically, "He's homeless. We've been using him as a consultant and-"

"Look, fellas," Irving interrupted thankfully, sounding more than calm. "His name is Ichabod Crane. He has some knowledge of what has been happening in my town and we've used him more than once on our more… mysterious cases. He's the department's consultant, nothing more."

Ichabod smiled, proud of his involvement and thankful that the captain had begun to help him and Abigail on the supernatural side of Sleepy Hollow. Despite his initiative thoughts on their unbelievable madness, catching sight of the Headless Horsemen proved to be just as what they've described all along.

The shorter agent narrowed his eyes at Ichabod in a curious fashion and replied in a low tone, of which Ichabod could not hear.

A few minutes later, Ichabod met with Abigail outside the station with his hands behind his back and his nose held high. "I take it the interrogation was exhausting?"

Abigail sighed heavily as she and Ichabod stepped down the stairway. "And who exactly was interrogating me?" She sounded angry and Ichabod felt he should not continue.

It was the late afternoon and the wind was blowing furiously throughout the town. The two of them decided to take the scenic route back to their secret archive. Sleepy Hollow was bustling with people and Ichabod was surprised to find himself thinking of what it used to look like.

"Maybe we should get you some modern clothes," Abigail suggested, sounding rather insensitive, according to Ichabod.

Ichabod spoke quickly and he gripped the damaged, dirty fabric with a sense of belonging. "Although I'm certain my garments are worthless to you, Miss Mills, they are the only remnants I have left of my life before I perished." He sounded angrier than he wanted to sound.

Abigail held up her hands in a defensive gesture. "Okay, Crane. Not pushing you into anything. Just a thought."

Ichabod released his cold breath into the dusk air and he watched it wisp away into nothingness. "I… I'm sorry. I simply…" He couldn't think of anything else to say. It had been quite a while since he'd been speechless. He swallowed the lump in his throat and had a considerable amount of images of his wife passing through his mind.

A small, warm hand clamped his shoulder and he found Abigail staring into his blue eyes with her large, brown ones. She looked sympathetic, but no words were exchanged on the matter.

"Come on. We've got some work to do."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam read through the local newspaper articles that were posted online, each new article increased a new line of concern on his forehead.

"You've got to be kidding," he said aloud, closing his laptop and glancing across the motel room at his older brother, who was delightfully drinking beer and cleaning the rifles. Curiousness got the best of him and he looked up with a questioning gaze.

"This town is nuts," Sam concluded and began to recite some of the cases he had read up on, "A priest and a police officer got their heads cut off, suicide rates are at an all-time high, a damn plague swept through and nearly killed twenty people!"

Dean raised an eyebrow and leaned back onto his bed's backboard. "So, there's some real juju mugumbo going on in Sleepy Hollow?"

Sam nodded, looking concerned.

"What do we got? Demons? Ghosts? I guess angels could be on the list now," Dean offered up, rubbing his chin.

"Dunno. Actually, there is someone who might have an idea of what's going on."

"Who?"

"That officer acted suspicious. Officer Mills. She had the telltale signs of someone who was lying. And we can't forget about that guy in the colonial outfit. You can't get more suspicious than that."

Sam looked up to find Dean staring into oblivion with a blissfully lucid expression on his face.

"Ah," Dean cooed, putting his hands behind his head, "Officer Mills. She's gorgeous. And freakin' hostile. But that's what I like in a woman."

Sam nearly threw up. "Dean, seriously. Something bad's going on in this town. Those two seem to be the only ones who might know what's going on."

The older Winchester grinned and stood up, "Well, then, let's go pay a visit to Lieutenant Mills and Mr. Crane."


End file.
